The Shadow and The Rose
by CJ Moliere
Summary: A Civil War era AU. Wyatt McCain known as "The Shadow" is one of the best soldiers in the 28th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry. His ability to surprise the enemy attracts the interest of the top commanders of the Union army who recruit him and his friend for a very dangerous yet important mission: the capture of "The Charleston Rose", a notorious Confederate spy.
1. Chapter 1

Charleston, South Carolina

December 20, 1860

A young woman, one hand clutching her skirts, the other holding a piece of paper raced down the road that led to her family's plantation, her heart thumping with excitement, her raven black hair fanning around her face. The slaves who were working in the fields were commanded to hault their duties by the overseer long enough to acknowledge her presence and call back the proper greeting for one of the mistresses of the house before they resumed their work. Two other women were sitting on the veranda, one sipping a mint julep and reading a book while the other knitted. When the older woman gazed up and saw the condition of her youngest daughter's dress, she frowned.

"Dorothy, where on earth have you been?" Mary Linda Gale exclaimed. "Your dress is caked with dirt and torn. Now go inside and change!"

"Momma, you won't believe what Maggie just told me!" she cried.

"Later. I won't have you going around looking like a slave." Mary said sternly. "Inside. Now!"

"But Momma, we've seceded!" Dorothy announced as she waved the piece of paper in the air.

"What?!" her sister Azkadellia gasped, the book she was reading falling from her lap as she stood up. "Dorothy, stop making up wild stories. We would never leave the Union."

"We have! Look!" Dorothy demanded as she thrust the piece of paper into her sister's hand. As Azkadellia read the bold faced words on the paper, she pressed her hand to her heart and sank back into her chair. Mary snatched the paper out of her daughter's hand and perused it. They'd both seen papers hanging on buildings around Charleston urging people to support the South Carolina government's efforts to seceed from the Union and tried not to listen as their men debated the issue.

"Oh, Mother this is horrible, a mistake!" Az moaned. "There'll be a war!"

"I don't think so darling. All we want is to be left alone to live our lives the way we always have."

"By keeping people in bondage?" Az snapped. "It's wrong, Mother. You know it is!"

"Azkadellia, please do not go into one of your tirades today," Mary pleaded. "The slaves are not unhappy. We treat them well."

"That doesn't matter!" the young woman yelled. "They're still not free to live their lives as they choose!"

"Well I don't like those damned Yankees coming down here trying to tell me how to live!" Dorothy said. "Az, surely you don't believe all that nonsense that Stowe woman wrote. We're not all bad people."

"It's not nonsense, it's the truth!" Azkadellia retorted.

"Enough!" Mary barked. "Dorothy, change your dress and give that one to Emmanuel to dispose of, Azkadellia, I have heard enough abolitionist nonsense out of you for one day!"

Azkadellia glared at their mother and sat down in her chair, opening her book up to the place where she'd stopped reading while Dorothy ran into the house, colliding with Azkadellia's fiance and her father Oscar as they emerged from his study.

"Where's the fire, Dottie?" Jeremy Zero asked with a grin.

"Gonna be up North from the looks of it. We seceeded!" she cried.

"It's about damned time!" Oscar exclaimed. "I told you we'd do it, didn't I boy?" he asked as slapped Jeremy on the back affectionately.

"Az says there might be a war," Dorothy added.

"And no doubt she's probably spouting that abolitionist hogwash too. Well, she won't be after we get married." Jeremy said firmly.

Dorothy scowled. At their last party Azkadellia had overheard the men speaking about secession and voiced her opinion leading to a heated argument between her and her fiance out in the stables. When she returned to their room later that evening, one of her cheeks was bruised yet she refused to conform her beliefs to those he held. Dorothy however, held the beliefs her parents did and was unwilling to change them with one exception, she would never allow a man to strike her.

"I have to go change," she said as she gathered her skirts in her hand and ran upstairs to her bedroom, calling out for her slave Emmanuel as she did so.

"Lord have Mercy. Miss Dorothy, how'd you get all that dirt on your dress! Your momma is gonna be furious with you!"

"She already is," Dorothy said as she went behind the change screen in her bedroom and threw the dirty dress out to the other girl. Although the young slave girl knew her orders were to burn it, she would save the material and use it to make a new dress for her own sister. She and the other slaves on the plantation were polite to the younger Gale daughter as she was to them but they all adored the elder daughter as she treated them as equals rather than servants, a practice that had earned her more than a few switchings from her parents.

Azkadellia entered the room a few minutes later, her displeasure over the day's events still weighing heavily on her mind. She sat down on the bed and sighed deeply. Dorothy emerged from behind the silk screen in a fresh dress and joined her sister.

"If there's a war, you're worried about Jeremy being called to fight, aren't you?"

"I don't know. Perhaps."

"I would go fight if I could."

"Dorothy!"

"Well, I don't see why a woman can't fight in battle. We can rule a country."

"I don't understand you sometimes Dorothy. You feel a woman should be able to fight in battles but you refuse to understand how wrong slavery is!"

"We treat our slaves well. They never complain," her sister argued.

"That doesn't mean they aren't unhappy," Azkadellia countered. She reached under her pillow and handed the younger girl the copy of Uncle Tom's Cabin. Dorothy sneered and tossed the book onto the mattress.

"You don't honestly expect me to read that trash!" she protested.

"All I'm asking is that you think about it," Azkadellia pleaded as she handed her the book again. Dorothy groaned yet she didn't refuse her sister's request a second time.

"Miss Dellia, Mr Jeremy is asking for you," Emmanuel said as she reentered the bedroom.

"I'll be right down," she said softly.

Once she was alone in the room, Dorothy opened her sister's copy of Uncle Tom's Cabin and began to read. Nothing the Stowe woman described ever happened on their plantation that she was aware of or any other plantation in their parish. After reading several chapters she set the book aside. She would read more of it later.

Later that evening her parents were hosting one of their weekly parties. The families from neighboring plantations around the parish would come to theirs to eat, dance and try to make matches for their sons and daughters. Mary was hoping to find a suitor for Dorothy but she showed little interest in them and that evening the main topic of conversation was the secession.

"This is our land and we have the right to live as we see fit," her father said. "Let them damned Yankees try to come down here make trouble. We'll give 'em a whipping they'll never forget!" Shouts of agreement rang out.

"Now let's not talk about that tonight," Mary pleaded.

"You're right my dear," he said as he took her in his arms and twirled her around as the music started to play. Several men and boys asked Dorothy to dance but she shooed them all away, wanting to go for a walk instead.

As she strolled down the lake in the moonlight, she couldn't escape the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that her sister's fears of war were justified. All South Carolinians wanted to do was protect their rights. What harm was there in that?

She sat down in front of the lake and reached her hand into the water, making small ripples that stretched farther as she waved her hand back and forth, still pondering the day's events as she did so. Several other Southern states expressed interest in seceding from the Union.

_We could have our own country, she thought. And it won't be bad at all. We would be free to live our lives the way we choose without having to answer to people from up North who don't understand us at all._

A scream reverberated through the silence sending chills down her spine. She jumped up and ran toward one of the cabins the slaves occupied, kneeling down and peering through the open window. One of the men was standing shirtless with his back against a wooden pool, his arms tied above his head and a bloody red welt slicing through his dark skin. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the plantation overseer William addressing the rest of the slaves in the room, a long whip in his hand. He walked behind the captive slave and swung the whip out, striking the man in the back. He screamed again and several women began to cry.

"Silence or you'll be next!" William threatened.

"Stop!" Dorothy cried out as she rose from her hiding place under the window. William turned around and smiled at the young woman.

"Go on back to the house Miss Dorothy. This doesn't concern you," he said firmly.

"Like hell it doesn't!" she growled. "Why is this man being beaten? We don't punish our slaves like this!"

"That's for your father to decide."

"That it is and you'll be leaving here when he hears of this!" she hissed as she spun on her heel and stormed back toward the main house. She found her father in the study with several other men, all of them smoking their pipes. "Papa, I need to speak with you right away."

"Can't it wait til the morning, Dottie?"

"No."

"Gentlemen, would you please excuse us." Once his friends were out of the room, Oscar glared down at his daughter. "Now what is so damned important that you had to come barging in here?"

"William is beating one of the slaves!" she announced.

"Is that all?"

"Is that all?!" she demanded incredulously. "Father, we don't punish our slaves like this!"

"Man's got to learn his place," Oscar said firmly as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't concern yourself with it, Dottie."

"Don't concern myself with it, Papa? How can you say that? You preach to us that what the abolitionists say about us and slavery is hogwash yet tonight I've just seen that some of it is the truth as Az has been saying all along!"

"I said you are not to concern yourself with this!" Oscar barked. "And we are not having this discussion again. Now you go out there and help your mother and sister see to our guests."

"But Papa..."

"I said go!" he commanded.

Dorothy bit her lip, tears brimming in her eyes as she thought of the young slave. His name was Nathaniel if she remembered correctly and he was one of the slaves who tended the horses. She'd seen him several times and although he was polite to her, she saw a coldness in his eyes when he looked at her and never spoke to her unless he was ordered to as did many of the others. Now she understood why. Unlike her sister, she had treated them as if they were property.

We treat our slaves well. They never complain.

_Of course they don't, Dottie. You've just seen for yourself what happens when they do, didn't you? And you thought your father was going to step in. Foolish girl._

When she returned to the ballroom she spotted Azkadellia dancing with Jeremy while her mother remained in her chair sipping a glass of champagne. "I've had Emmanuel looking everywhere for you! How could you be so disrespectful and abandon our guests?" she scolded.

"I went for a walk, Momma," she croaked.

"Dottie, there you are! I was looking for you!" Azkadellia cried when she approached them. "What's the matter? You've been crying."

"I...I'm all right," she lied as she grabbed a glass of champagne and took a long sip. She was asked to dance again and was about to refuse when she saw her father glaring at her from across the room. She took the young man's hand in hers and allowed him to lead her out to the center of the room. Every boy she danced with had the same thing on their minds. They wanted a war, believing all it would take was one week to send the Yankees battered and bruised back up North.

"Now do you want to tell me what happened tonight?" Azkadellia demanded as she crawled into bed beside her later that night.

"I saw William beating one of the slaves," she said sadly. "I didn't think we did that..."

"Neither did I until a year ago. And Father approves" she added bitterly. "Now do you understand why I believe slavery is wrong. Would you want to remain loyal to someone who treated you less than human?"

"No," Dorothy admitted. "But I still feel the same about us being a separate country."

"We can't survive on tobacco, cotton and farming alone, Dottie. We need industry...the North's industry. Most of the equipment we use comes from the North. We'll lose access to it."

"Maybe not. Maybe we can trade with them."

Azkadellia shook her head. "You don't realize just how damaging this secession is for us and the other states that will follow and they will follow."

"Then why don't you go live up North!" Dorothy shouted.

"I would if I could!" Az shouted back.

"Az!"

"Don't you 'Az' me Dorothy Rose Gale. This way of life you and everyone else is so determined to preserve isn't as wonderful as you believe it to be. We keep people in bondage and the woman are expected to just wear pretty clothes and talk sweet without having any opinions of their own." She lay down and turned her back. "The sooner you understand that, the better."

The following morning flyers announcing THE UNION IS DISSOLVED were posted on poles and buildings throughout the city of Charleston and the surrounding parishes. If there were any people in the city against the secession, they didn't voice it publicly. Even though it was difficult, Azkadellia had to restrain her disappointment.

"This is the start of a new era for the South, my girls," their father proclaimed. "No more Yankee interference. From now on we deal with things our way."

On the street outside the capitol building a band was playing "Dixieland" while a group gathered around and was singing the lyrics more passionately than they ever had before.

"Dorothy, what on Earth are you doing!?" Mary Linda cried out as her daughter jumped out of the carriage and started dancing with some boys who joined them.

"Momma, this is so exciting!"

"Get back in here this instant!" Mary Linda snapped.

"Oh let her have her fun dear," Oscar chided. "There'll be plenty of celebrating today and in the weeks to come."

"She's celebrating South Carolina's funeral," Azkadellia muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

Worchester, Massachusetts

December 21, 1860

"Wyatt, ye in there mon?" Ambrose "Glitch" MacTavish shouted out as he walked through the large barn seeking out his best friend and fellow Mexican War veteran Wyatt McCain. A head of curly blond hair popped up from inside one of the horse stalls with a rake in his hand.

"He went to town. Should be back soon." Jebediah "Jeb" McCain said as he opened the stall door and locked his horse securely inside. "What brings you out here, Glitch? Some new crazy invention for Pa to try?"

"Laugh all ye want laddie but not all my inventions are crazy. Made work 'round here a little easier for you, haven't they?"

"When they're workin, yeah." Jeb replied. The older man scowled, knowing there was truth to the boy's statement. He'd earned the nickname Glitch after one too many of his inventions either exploded or constantly broke down.

"I'm not here to make your pa try out some new invention but I'm guessin' if he went to town he's probably heard the news already."

"What news?"

"Those damned fools down in South Carolina." Glitch grumbled.

"They're threatening to secede again? They've been talking about it for a while now Glitch. They ain't gonna do it. Won't survive without our industry." Jeb said confidently.

"They've done it lad," Glitch said grimly as he handed the boy a newspaper.

Jeb read the article, shaking his head. "They just want to keep their slaves. Only reason why they're doing it. All that preaching about states' rights being the reason is nothing more than hogwash."

"I agree with ye lad but it's done." He sighed deeply. "There'll be war, make no mistake about that. Your pa and I thought we left all that behind in Mexico."

"If we do go to war, would you fight again?" Jeb asked as they walked back to the house.

"Yeah lad, I would. We fought to bring Texas into the Union and if those damned secessionists have their way, Texas is gonna join them." Glitch mumbled as he sat down on the steps and lit his pipe.

"Do you think Pa would fight again?" Jeb inquired. He was just a baby when Wyatt went to fight in the Mexican War and two years old when he returned but once he returned, the entire family's focus centered around making their farm a success until Adora died in childbirth four years earlier.

"I don't know Jeb. That war was hard on all of us. He told me after we came home there was no way in hell he'd ever fight another war and when your pa says something, he means it."

In the distance horses' hooves pounded on the earth as a man wearing a hat and long overcoat rode down the path to the small house. He dismounted and placed his hands on his hips as he glanced up at the two occupants on the porch.

"Glitch, if you're bringin' me one more of your contraptions to try out, ya might as well haul it back," Wyatt McCain commanded. "The last one nearly tore the teats off my best cow! And Jeb you better have those horse stalls mucked out instead of sitting here lollygagging."

"I'm done, Pa."

"I'll be checking to make sure," his father warned.

"You hear the news in town?" Glitch inquired.

Wyatt frowned as he sat on the step beside his best friend and lit a cigar. "Yeah, I heard. South Carolina isn't gonna be the only one to go and all that time we spent down in Mexico to get Texas will be for nothing. Damn fools."

"Do you think there'll be a war, Pa?"

"Don't see how we're gonna be able to avoid it, son," Wyatt answered sadly. "May not happen right away but it will happen."

"Would you fight again?"

"No. I left all that behind in Mexico and I'm too old now," Wyatt said. "And don't you be getting any ideas about joining up if we go to war. There's too much work to be done around here! Speaking of that, we need to get those cows milked before sundown."

"I'm goin'," Jeb mumbled and hurried off leaving the two older men on the porch.

"I reckon you would fight again," Wyatt said to his friend.

Glitch nodded. "I may be old but I still got some tricks in me noggin. Even if we do go to war it's not gonna last long. If those states keep seceding they'll be cutting themselves off from our industry. Kinda like shootin 'emselves in the foot."

"I can't go Glitch. It was hard enough leaving Adora here to mind the farm while we were off fighting in Texas and Mexico but we're barely surviving now. All the industry we're so proud of is making it harder on us farmers to keep going when the factories are taking up all our land."

"The land isn't as fertile as it once was, Wyatt."

Wyatt sighed. "I know. But I can't see myself working in a factory when farming is all I know. That and chasing Mexicans."

The two men laughed. "Remember that whorehouse in La Paz?" Glitch asked his friend.

Wyatt chuckled. "God's nightshirt, how can I forget? If I hadn't been there to warn you the Mexicans were coming you woulda been shot with your drawers down. You ever hear from the lass after that?"

"A letter or two. She got married. You ever think about getting married again?"

"No. Just go to visit Lilly Watson's place when I get the urges. Don't have to worry about her girls giving me the pox cause she has the docs check 'em. I better go check and make sure that boy of mine is getting his chores done. You want to stay tonight?"

"I don't want to impose."

"It's a long ride back to town and we got the room," Wyatt insisted. "You can stay in my room and I'll bunk in Jeb's room."

'"You sure?"

"I'm sure. We've both slept in worse places."

"Oh, aye. With rats and shite a plenty." Glitch yawned. "Wyatt if ye don't mind, I'm turnin' in. Rode hard most of the day to get here and my ass is sore."

"Night Glitch."

Instead of going out to the barn to check on his son's work, Wyatt made his way down the small path that led to the garden. On the other side of it was a wooden headstone that had been carved into the shape of an angel holding a plaque with the names of his late wife and the daughter who survived only a few hours after her birth. He made the sign of the cross and kneeled in front of the grave, lightly caressing the headstone with his hand.

"I'm so glad you aren't here to see this, Adora love. You didn't like my bein' in Mexico or Texas any more than I wanted to be there but now the whole damned thing seems like a fool's errand because we've already lost South Carolina and other states are gonna go the same way so they can keep their slave labor. I don't want to have to go to war again. I'm not young anymore and this farm is barely getting by now but I know damned well if you were here you'd be giving me hell if I didn't do my part to protect this country. And I'm damned scared that son of ours is gonna sneak off and join the army in the middle of the night. He's getting more like me when I was that age every day and that's not a good thing. All I do now is hope those fools realize what a mistake they made and rejoin the Union."

He kissed the headstone and walked back to the house. Jeb was sitting in their small living room whittling a piece of wood. During the times when they had poor harvests, they would sometimes sell their wood carvings. It started out as a hobby but once in a while a neighboring family would pay them to make things for their children. Finding another suitable piece, Wyatt took out his own carving knife and started working on another.

When he and Jeb rode into the city the next morning there was a bitterness in the air as thick as the smoke from the factories.

"Give 'em a month...they'll be begging to come back once we cut em off from our industry."

"Fools don't know what a honest day's work is. Use slaves to do it for them. Sooner or later they'll all wise up and run off."

"A war's coming. It's just a matter of time. Those rebs aren't satisfied unless they're making trouble."

"After all that trouble we went through to get Texas away from Mexico, they'll repay us by joining those other states wanting to leave. Kind of an insult to the men who fought in that war."

Being one of those men, Wyatt had to agree with the last statement yet there was little he or anyone else could do at the moment. Nor did he want to if it involved picking up a rifle and marching into the bowels of Hell again.


End file.
